


Stolen Dance

by stephanietodds



Series: Something Just Like This Verse [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 16:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanietodds/pseuds/stephanietodds
Summary: Jason Todd hates dance clubs, so he’s not really sure why he finds himself in one. The overpriced drinks, the poor service; their only saving grace are the beautiful bodies in barely-there clothing. But when Jason runs into a beautiful face that puts the rest of them to shame, a stolen dance turns into a night he’ll never want to forget.





	Stolen Dance

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first DC fanfic, and the first piece I wrote in a long time. It happened because "Shut Up and Dance" kept coming on at work and I have a lot of Jaysteph feelings. Shout out to my two favorite humans Jay & Kay (millenniumrobin & graysonsflight) for helping me with edits, especially Jay for the combat scene. This will be part of a bunch of short little things in the same continuity, eventually!

              Jason Todd needed a drink.  
             That was probably one of those truths that were self evident, but there it was. It had been a long fucking week - longer than usual at least, and he was about two days and a gunshot wound past “done”.  
              He flashed his ID at a bouncer he could definitely take, thanking the powers that be for the fake he’d acquired since… coming back. He figured dying warranted permission to drink as freely as he’d like.  
  
              As soon as he stepped through the door, he instantly regretted the decision. The music was too peppy; too much bass, too much light, and he did not have enough whiskey in his system. He almost turned to leave when a slender body collided with his. Before he had a chance to say anything, she was being pulled away quickly, surrounded by a gaggle of girls. Yes, a gaggle. Another reason to get the fuck out. They weren’t quick enough, however, for Jason not to catch a glimpse of her blonde hair, her red lips, her blue eyes.  
Alright, yeah. He could stay a while.  
  
             It took all of two minute to acquire a double of his favorite whiskey on the rocks and down a solid half of it. He didn’t fuck around when it came to whiskey. All the while his eyes scanned the room - two exits there, a window that way, and the one he came in - the Bat had trained him well, and old habits died hard. Sometimes literally. There were plenty of pretty girls in the place, brunettes, redheads (though, he had a love-hate thing with those - when the woman who was effectively the only sister you’d ever had was also a redhead, it was hard not to see her everywhere. Plus, that was Dick’s territory anyway) and of course, blonde bombshells with skirts just begging to be torn off. None of them, however, could hold a candle to the girl he’d bumped into.

  
Once again his eyes darted around, looking for a head of golden blonde hair. It wasn’t hard to spot her. Her energy could light up the entire Gotham skyline. Fuck, he sounded like an idiot thinking shit like that, but he couldn’t help it. Girl was hot, and she was more alive in this moment than Jason had ever felt in his whole life - parts one or two.  
She was laughing as she looked over her shoulder, bright blue eyes meeting his. Her  
laugh melted into a smirk, realizing he had been watching her. Fuck. He downed the other half of his drink and hissed, feeling the fire travel down his throat. He needed another one if he was going to survive this night.  

   
    In the five seconds he’d turned his head to order another double, she’d materialized at his side, leaning against the bar. She made no attempt to hide the once over she gave him, paired with an approving nod.  
    “So, you going to buy me a drink or what?”  
    He raised an eyebrow at her. “Depends on what you’re drinking. If it's some bitch ass little-”  
    “Johnnie Walker. Neat.” She told the bartender. “On his tab.”  
    Jason smirked, putting a hand over his heart with a dramatic sniffle. “Woman after my own-”  
    “Shut up.” The girl laughed, shaking her head. Long fingers ran through her hair, putting curls back in their pace. She grinned. “So, hot shot. Got a name?”  
    “Jason.”      
    “Jason. Got it. I’m Stephanie. You can call me Steph.”  
    “You can call me Jason.” She laughed, reaching for her drink and swallowing.  
    “Alright, hot shot. Whatever you say.” She tapped her nails on the glass, eyes flitting from the ice to her friends, to Jason, and back to the ice. He could all but see the thought process, the gears in her head turning, weighing options, making plans. He didn’t like plans.  
    “C’mon.” She reached for his wrist, slender fingers wrapping around it easily.  
    “Uh, sugar, I don’t know if you noticed, but I have half a glass of-”  
    “Shut up and dance with me, hot shot.”  
    She started dragging him toward the crowd of people dancing, weaving through the bodies. He easily could have resisted, pulled her back, told her no… he didn’t. He let her pull him along, all the while taking her in - the way her hair fell down her bare back, the long legs disappearing into high top red converse that had seen better days, the little smirk she kept shooting him over her shoulder. Despite the whiskey sitting abandoned at the bar, he was pretty okay with this turn of events.  
    Eventually she turned around, deciding this was as good a spot as any to be. He could see the other girls she came in with not too far away and gave them half a nod, more for their sake than his own.  
    The song was bassy, a good beat, a light melody over top - not his kind of music by any means, but he’d definitely heard worse. His now free hands fell to her hips, resting there as they began to sway.  
    It was in that moment, more than ever before, that he wished for some of his older brother’s easy grace - the kind that let him dance with Babs as though they’d been doing it their whole lives, the kind he had never quite been able to perfect himself. It was now, in this moment, that he envied Dick Grayson.  
    He let Steph lead, or whatever the hell she was doing. She turned around, back pressed against him, her hair pulled over one shoulder to look up at him.  
    “Come on hot shot. You can do better than that.” If she’d been trying to get a reaction out of him, it worked. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her back against him. She let out a short laugh, pleased with what she got. Her hips swayed against him, and her hands rested over his, fingers finding the spaces in between.  
    He could smell her hair, or was it her perfume - fuck it didn’t matter - feel her heartbeat, the heat of her body, everything in those moments was Stephanie - Steph.  
    She turned around again, and the energy had completely changed. Her arms came up around his neck, fingers running through his hair. He was glad he didn’t cut his hair for once, if only to enjoy the feeling of her fingers through it. His hands slid lower, pulling her closer to him. She gasped, just barely, and if it hadn’t been for, well, who he was, he would have missed it.  
    Heavy lids closed over bright blue eyes for just a moment before shooting back open to look up at him from under her lashes. Damnit, he was screwed. She licked her red lips, and it was all Jason could do not to grab her and kiss her right there. She was still moving against him, pressing in all the right places. His fingers dug into her, needing her closer, needing her now.  
    They were suddenly breathing the same air, Jason leaning down as she looked up, searching, eyes all over him. Her lips parted, his eyes locked on her bottom lip, jutting out just so.  
    “Please tell me you live close by?” She breathed out. He laughed.  
    “My brother does.”  
    “Good.” She pulled him toward her, leaning up to whisper in his ear, her voice husky. “Make sure he’s not home.”  
    Jason all but groaned. She was going to end him. He nodded and reached for his phone, shooting a quick text to Dick. Whatever God that watched over him deserved a big fucking high five. Dick was with Babs. Tim and Bruce were out, and he was ready to go out and back them up if they needed him. So no matter what, he wouldn’t be back in Blüdhaven until tomorrow morning.  
    Steph returned to his side a moment later, credit card between her fingers.  
    “We got a place to go?” She asked, offering his card back to him.  
    “Yeah.” He told her, his hand falling to her waist. She waved to her friends as he led her toward the door, outside, and to his bike. She raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”  
    “Helmet and curls don’t really go together.”  
    “Neither does a cracked skull, Princess.” He shoved the helmet at her, climbing on. She huffed and slid behind him, arms wrapping around his waist. “Hang on tight.”  
    He sped off, bobbing and weaving between cars - Stupid? Yes. Efficient? Also yes. The shrieks from behind him were enough to kick it into higher gear. She was holding on tighter, laugher painting each one of the high pitched squeals. He might have been smiling, if he was the type to smile.  
    They reached Dick’s place in Blüdhaven, probably faster than they should have. He didn’t care. The quicker they got off this bike, the quicker he’d - well.  
    “Your brother lives in a warehouse?” Steph asked, cocking a hip. “Is this the part where you murder me?”      
    “Not until after I kiss you, Princess.” He pulled her close against him, leaning in.  
    “I could take you. I’m scrappy.”  
    “Mhm.” He nodded, one of his hands sliding up her back and into her hair.  
    “I totally could.” He was leaning in closer, their lips almost touching.  
    “I’m sure.” His breath was hot against her.  
    “No, I totally could.” He raised an eyebrow.  
  
    On the list of reasons why a hot blonde would be standing opposite him in nothing but her underwear, fighting her in his brother’s apartment was not one of them.  
    She’d toed off her shoes immediately and proceeded to lose her dress. Despite how hot it made her, she explained, it was not conducive to fighting.  
    “You sure you wanna play this game, Princess?” He asked, shrugging off his jacket and rolling his neck.  
            “Come on, hot shot. Show me what you’ve got.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. He rolled his eyes.  
            “You can’t handle my best.”  
            “You talk, like so much.” She punctuated the end of her sentence with a high kick that came, admittedly, faster and higher than he expected. It didn’t matter, he still dodged it with a deft sidestep. Her blonde locks twirled in the air as she followed with a sharp elbow, hoping to catch him off guard. On an everyday Joe at the bar, she would have. But he grabbed her arm, twisting lightly and pulling her toward her, free arm snaking loosely around her neck.  
            “Check and mate.” A smirk actually did cross his lips this time. “Game over, Princess.” She rolled her eyes, tugging at his forearm.  
            “If you think I’m giving up, you’re wrong.” She twisted in his grip, moving with something adjacent to a dancer’s grace, facing him. “If I really wanted to, I’d have you on your knees in half a second.”  
            “We putting bets on this? ‘Cause… knees sound pretty nice if –“  
            “Do not even finish that sentence.” She ducked out from under his arm and pulled herself back into a fighting stance.  
            “Well, this was not how I envisioned my evening going.”  
            Truth be told, Steph had some moves. Fighting moves, not dance moves. Though she had those too. Where was he? Right. Anyone untrained wouldn’t have stood a chance against her – she would have put them on the floor. But he was trained, and honestly only putting in half an effort. Still, the beautiful blonde in front of him was not letting up, no matter how many head locks he put her in. She did manage to get in one good shot to his ribs, but within seconds he had that arm twisted around her back.  
            “Pinned ya,” he whispered into her ear, teeth grazing the outside gently. He let her go, which was a mistake. She dropped to the ground, kicking his legs out from underneath him. A good move, and someone with less training would have been flat on their ass. But he was not that person.  
            With a practiced – he wouldn’t say grace because of who he was – but practiced something, he put a hand out behind him to break his fall. Body steadied, his legs wrapped around her waist and he twisted, rolling her over him until she was underneath him, one hand easily restraining both of hers above her head. Breath from both of them came harder now, her chest rising and falling rapidly. It was quite distracting.  
            “Pinned ya again.” She rolled her eyes, long legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer.  
            “You win, hot shot.” She breathed.  
    Jason was done teasing. He was done playing, he was done with not having her. She said it herself. He won, and he was going to take his prize.  
    If he was poetic, he’d say it was like the first drink of water after being stuck wandering in the desert. If he was poetic, he would compare this to fireworks or lightning or getting hit with high voltage. If he was poetic, he would say he’d been waiting his whole life to kiss someone the way he kissed Stephanie.  
    Jason Todd was no poet, but he knew what he felt. He knew he’d never kissed anyone like this, but he wasn’t thinking of words - he wasn’t thinking at all. He was just feeling. He was feeling her lips on his - finally -  her body under his, her heels dig into the small of his back. He was feeling the rest of her arching up to meet him, her hands staying where he kept them. He was feeling Steph, and nothing else mattered.  
    Teeth nipped at his bottom lip, egging him on in the most playful way. She arched more against him, chest to chest, as she released his lip and her hell fell to the side. His kisses relocated, down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone- every inch of skin he could reach without strain. The tip of his tongue traced a path along her skin. She sighed, wiggling her hips just so. He wanted to groan, but he refused to let up even that tiny bit of power.  
    “Come on, hot shot.” She urged, letting out a short laugh. “You can do better than that.” Her words from earlier echoed. He smirked.  
    “You can’t handle my best.” He shot back.  
    “You talk, like so much.” She leaned up to try and kiss him, but he pulled back. Okay, maybe he wasn’t done teasing. He didn’t miss the surprised pout, or the quick determination that flashed through her eyes.  
    She struggled against him, and he hadn’t been prepared. She flipped them over all too easily, straddling his hips. He couldn’t help but smirk as he looked up at her.  
    “I swear to God, Steph, if you-”  
    “Pinned ya, hot shot.” He was full on grinning as she leaned down to kiss him, blonde hair falling over her shoulders. His fingers tangled into the curls, crushing their lips together harder. His other hands slipped between their bodies and into the purple lace.  
    She gasped, pulling out of the kiss for just a second before diving right back in. He was pleased with the reaction, even more so by the wetness he found there. Her hips tilted forward, just so, her body searching for what she knew she needed. He was happy to oblige, just as long as she kept making those little noises.  
    “Fuck, I-” She swore under her breath, the hot air brushing his collarbone.  
    “Yeah?” It came out as more of a grunt, despite himself. He sat up a little, shifting the position of his fingers.       
    “I need-” She gasped again, eyes fluttering closed. He didn’t need to hear the rest. He knew what she needed. He knew what to give her.  
    His fingers slid into her, two immediately. The noise she made was something he’d never forget. His free hand reached around her back, supporting her as she arched toward him. Her head fell back, exposing her neck. His mouth followed the exposed skin, biting and sucking, feeling the vibration from her sounds against his lips. Ever searching, his fingers slid up her back and unclasped the purple lace bra, letting the straps fall slack on her shoulders. His thumb, all the while, found her clit, and right then he made a decision.  
    Stephanie was going to scream his name - before he even fucked her.  
    “Say my name.” It was a growl, raw against her, coming from somewhere deep within him.  
    He should have been shocked by her answer. He thought she was too far gone to think, much less to snark back at him.      
    “Well don’t stop, hot shot.” She whined. He looked up at her and could all but feel the smirk on her lips. Teeth clamped on the inside of his cheek to keep back a frustrated noise. Fine. She wanted to be a brat? He’d show her what he did with brats.  
    Fingers tangled in her hair, yanking back until she was flat against the floor. A surprised whine escaped her as his fingers twisted inside her. He kissed a trail of fire down her throat, over one breast and to the other, sucking a nipple into his mouth. Her hand shot to the back of his head, knitting fingers into his tousled hair. He let himself take a moment to enjoy it, to enjoy her, before moving lower down her stomach.  
    “Say my name, Princess.” He mumbled into her hipbone, grazing his teeth over her sensitive skin.  
    “What’s with the name thing?” She sighed, fingers tightening. His were still buried inside her, moving slowly, deliberately. Her breath kept catching, tiny hitches when he hit just the right spot.  
    “Say my name, Steph.” This time against her thigh, biting in hard to the flesh there. She sucked in a sharp breath, but still refused his demand. At least this time she was smart enough to stay silent. He kept teasing, tongue and lips and teeth against her thighs, her stomach, her hips, but nowhere that she wanted. Her little whines only made him go slower - stop his fingers, pull away. He was going to get what he wanted, damnit, no matter what it took.  
    “I can do this all night, Princess. It’s your choice. Tell me what you want, or this is all you’re getting.”  
    The hand in his hair yanked him up, their lips crashing together. Lighting once again striking behind his eyes, through his veins, down his spine. He would have easily let himself disappear into it, get lost in her all over, but she yanked him away, breath hot against his ear.  
    “Fuck me, Jason. Until I forget my own name.” Her legs wrapped back around him. “Until the only one I know is yours.”  
    She was going to be the end of him. Oh well.  
    He didn’t hesitate then, pulling himself away just long enough to pull off his shirt. She followed, fingers tracing lines over his chest, his scars, lips at his neck while he struggled with his belt. Well, fuck. She laughed, pushing his hands out of the way.  
    “You won’t be laughing in a minute, Princess.”  
    “I really hope not.” She tilted up to kiss him, making easy work of his pants.  
    “Fucking brat.” He mumbled. She smiled and leaned up to kiss him quickly on the lips. Once his pants were off, his hands around her and down to her ass, picking her up. She let out a surprised squeak, arms tightening around him. He set her down on the couch, tugging impatiently at the last barrier between them. As hot as the purple lace was, it needed to go.  
    Their lips met in a fevered, desperate kiss as he situated himself between her legs. With one slow stroke he slid into her, letting slip a low groan. A high pitched whimper matched his, nails scraping against his shoulder.  
    “Fuck me, Jason. Make me scream.” She breathed against his neck, forehead falling to his shoulder. He didn’t need to be asked twice. He pulled back, only to snap his hips forward again, harder this time. She whined, right in his ear. His thrusts were fast, hard, calculated. He was going to make this last, more for his own sake than hers, but it was hard to concentrate with those fucking noises she was making. Tiny whimpers, harsh breaths, his name, always his name, over and over while her nails scratched down his back, her teeth sunk into his shoulder, her hips arched.  
    She was all that existed - her voice, her hands, her mouth, and his name. Jason. Steph. Steph...  
    “Steph.” He groaned out loud, his pace faltering just for a second. He was acutely aware of how Steph was shifting, how her legs were beginning to shake. Her breaths were coming in gasps and hisses and shudders.  
    “Jason, I-”      
    “Do it. Do it Princess. Cum for me.” He wasn’t exactly proud of the way his voice sounded, more a growl than anything, and far from in control.  
    With one last gasp and the sound of his name, she was shuddering around him, wracking shivers all through her. A few more quick, hard strokes and he followed, her name falling from his lips, over and over.  
  
    They settled, all tangled legs and having chests. Her nose bumped his jaw, pulling a reluctant smile out of him.  
    “Your brother got a shower?” Jason chuckled.  
    “Ready for round two already?” She huffed and he could feel the eyeroll in his oul.  
    “Shut up, will you?”  
    “Not a chance, Princess.” She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair.  
    “I like the white streak you’ve got going on. Channeling your inner Rogue?”  
    “My what?” She laughed, shaking her head, just barely.  
    “Nevermind.” Absently, his fingers traced gentle patterns on her skin. He wasn’t really one for cuddling or gentle kisses or any kind of affection, but with that blonde hair fanning out over his chest and those blue eyes closed against his shoulder, he figured he could get used to it.  
    Soft lips pressed to the underside of his jaw, once, twice, three times.  
  
    Yeah, okay, he could get used to this.


End file.
